Beaten
by cakeonfire911
Summary: Takes place during the episode "Brian: Portrait Of A Dog". After the incidents on the day of the dog show, Peter decides the only way to make Brian be a "good dog" is by taking him over his knee. But it seems to cause Brian more pain than they both think at first. How will it end? May contain ideologically sensitive material. Also, there are two chapters on one page FYI .


**BEATEN**

**A _Family Guy_ OOC Fic By Cakeonfire911**

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Family Guy_, Seth MacFarlane does.**

**For the record, I'd like to say it hurts me to write this. I adore Brian, and I'd hate to see him punished like this. But, thanks to a _The Rescuers_ fanfic I read earlier, this must come out. So, this takes place during the episode "Brian: Portrait Of A Dog" on the night of the dog show. This is also my trial fic, so please be a teeny-tiny bit lenient. Thank you. Let's begin with Chapter One:**

Brian sat upon Peter and Lois's bed, thinking of all the embarrassment he had to put up with that day. "He doesn't understand me," he mumbled about Peter, "he doesn't care about me. No one ever has."

He sounded tough on those last four words, but on the inside he was in tears. He felt that at this point in the day nothing could make him feel more miserable.

Peter, on the other hand, was furious with Brian for what happened that day. He felt that Brian needed to be taught a lesson, but how? Suddenly, an idea hatched in his head, and a few minutes later he carried a tall stool into his room. 'This'll teach him to mess with Peter Griffin,' he thought as he anticipated his plan.

"Oh, hi Peter," Brian greeted gruffly, crossing his arms.

Peter, who didn't want to waste time on conversation, commanded, "Get over here right now!"

With a sigh Brian made his way to Peter. "What do you want?" he asked.

"Brian, you didn't behave yourself at all today," Peter declared as he sat on the stool, "so I'm going to teach you a lesson."

"How, exactly?"

"A good old-fashioned spanking, that's how."

"Oh, great," Brian moaned, "you treat me even more like a child. Just what I needed."

"Don't you back-sass me, old man," Peter scolded.

"You know, if I'm an 'old man', per say, than why do you need to spank me?" Brian interrogated.

"Because you're my dog and you've been naughty, so you need discipline of the proper kind," Peter snapped back, "and don't you go thinkin' there are laws that prevent me from doin' this. You animals aren't that important. Besides, it's for your own good."

Brian rolled his eyes. 'For my own good is it?' he cogitated, 'After everything that occurred today, I know for a fact it's not for my own good. It's for Peter's.'

Peter pulled the ever-humiliated Brian by his collar onto his lap, letting the dog's legs dangle from that position. Even though Brian had bad experiences with spankings during his puppyhood, he knew he was older and that Peter was only trying to humiliate him, nothing more, nothing less. At least, he thought he knew that.

Peter's hand swooped into the air and landed on Brian's underside abruptly and firmly. To Brian's surprise, there was a lot of pain that came with that smack, and it was burning, too. He had no idea a spanking from Peter was that excruciating, especially not with the first whack.

The second blow was no better; it was much worse in fact. So was the third, fourth, and fifth. Each one seemed to become more severe. By the time Peter reached double digits, Brian began to beg, "Peter, please, I've- ouch!- had enough- ow!- I've- yow!- learned my lesson-ow!- please, stop!"

But Peter didn't think Brian had enough. He swatted Brian up to sixty-four unbearable times. By the end of that round Brian was weary. "May I be left alone now?" he questioned desperately.

"Oh, no, we're just getting started." Peter placed Brian in a new position. Now the dog was on only one of Peter's legs, and his backside faced the ceiling. From this location he noticed Peter taking off his shoe, and he instantly knew what he was going to do with it. He squinted his eyes as the first stroke landed on him. There was no use begging now; all he could do was let the sharp, cringe-worthy pain seep inside of him.

'Man alive, this hurts,' Brian thought as the seemingly endless spanking continued. The shoe was even worse than Peter's open palm, which was truly saying something.

After a whopping sixty pops, the shoe level was finished. "Now will you stop?" Brian inquired, trying not to let fear show in his voice.

"Nope," was Peter's short, simple reply. However, he did push Brian off his lap. He then told the dog to lay bottom up on the bed.

Sore, frightened, and perplexed, Brian followed his master's order. At first he was facing the wall, but then he heard a gust of wind and looked toward Peter's direction. Peter had taken off his belt and was cracking it in open air to intimidate him.

Brian gulped. Haunting memories of being beaten with a belt came back to him. He recalled being spanked with it six days out of the week when he was a pup by one of his former owners, Granny Whitlam. Although she was old and frail, Granny used the belt so vigorously it terrified Brian because of its awful sting. He would always promise to be good every time he was whipped, but that didn't stop old Granny. The worst thing was he never got used to it; at the end of every fifteen-smack round his fluffy white face would be swollen from crying. He may have been much older, but considering Peter's performance that night, the belt would cause him more physical and emotional pain than ever.

As Peter slowly stepped toward his dog, Brian shook like a leaf. When Peter was right at the side of the bed, he shut his eyes and hid them with his paws. Then-_SMACK!_- the end of the belt with the buckle on it came down upon Brian's rear. The hand may have been horrifically extreme, and the shoe may have been much worse than that, but the belt was something that could have given him nightmares for a month with the first blow. At the third Brian couldn't help but let tears of anguish drip from his deep aquamarine eyes. Peter kept whipping Brian mercilessly with the wretched leather belt until he had blown through a round of fifty-eight consecutive whacks.

Once the awful beating was concluded, Peter silently put his belt back on. "I hope you've learned your lesson," he said to Brian through gritted teeth.

Brian exposed his tearstained face and weakly answered, "Yes sir."

"And what is that lesson, mister?" Peter quizzed sternly.

Brian glared at whom he once thought was his best friend. "The lesson is to never trust you, Peter Griffin."

Peter probably would have given his dog another brutal spanking, but his arm was tired. Huffily, he took his stool out of the room and flicked off the light.

As soon as Peter left, Brian began to weep softly onto the bed. He made sure he was quiet, for he didn't want anyone to hear him in his condition. He was certain that if he didn't have fur, his posterior would be grotesquely red and bruised. 'What on Earth did I do so wrong to deserve that kind of punishment?' he thought repeatedly, 'I must really be as rotten as he thinks I am.' Finally the discomfort in his behind and the agony swirling in his mind forced him to fall asleep. By then he wanted to never wake up; he never wanted to face Peter again.

**Chapter 2**

**A/N: Time passes from the beating to this chapter. This takes place between when Brian was released from the pound (thanks to Peter giving each judge $20) and the last scene. Don't worry; this will be brighter than the last chapter.**

Brian was on Peter and Lois's bed once more, but this time he was in a better mood. Peter had saved his life that day and showed him that he meant something to their family. However, he still was haunted by the memory of the thrashing he received weeks earlier by the same man who got him out of trouble in the present day.

Just as Brian thought deeply about the whole situation, Peter walked into the room. "Uh, hey buddy," he said gingerly. He paused briefly and then added, "I think we need to talk about something."

Brian knew just what Peter was referring to. "I couldn't agree more," Brian responded.

Peter took a seat beside Brian and looked at him a little nervously. "Listen, about all that spankin' business," he began to explain, "I'm really sorry. I wasn't thinkin' right. I thought it would be for your own good, but it wasn't. You ran away because of me. But, hey, it's been a while. I think I made it up to you today in court. I just want you to know that you'll always be my best friend in the whole world. Friends don't beat friends like that. Could you ever forgive me?"

Brian's eyes stared into Peter's soul for a minute. He then answered, "Well, Peter, I'm glad you're apologizing. But, I can't forgive you fully yet. I can't forget the incident either. Peter, what you did to me caused me a lot of trouble."

Peter lowered his gaze guiltily. "I know that now, pal," he said as tears formed in his eyes. A few seconds later he somberly removed his belt and placed it before Brian. "That's why I'm giving you a revenge shot. Beat me as hard as you want. I don't care. As long as it makes it easier for you to forgive me, it's okay."

The dog didn't know what to say. Although he did want to give Peter a taste of his own medicine, part of him didn't think it was necessary. 'Just this once,' he said to himself, his mind made up.

"Bottom up."

Peter sheepishly did as he was told. He knew what was coming, and he knew it would hurt an awful lot.

Brian straightened the belt and raised it into the air. It landed with a thud on Peter's bum. "Ouch!" Peter yelped as his body jolted from the force of the smack.

That was all, to Peter's confusion. "Why aren't you hittin' me anymore?" he asked. He glanced over to Brian, who was simply staring down at the belt.

"Well, Peter," Brian said, his voice quivering, "you would've had to shoot me in both my knees and light me on fire to deserve such a terrible revenge shot. Besides, for someone who was beaten constantly as a child, it's hard to do the same to someone else, no matter how much pain that other person caused them." He shuddered and returned Peter's belt.

Peter arose from his laying position and looked at Brian in shock. "Wait a minute. You mean you were spanked like that when you were a kid?" he questioned.

Brian remembered his past torment and whimpered. "Mm-hmm."

The man of the house had the most astonished and guilty expression on his face. "Man, who did it to you?" he asked.

Brian shot Peter a look of uneasiness. "Am I required to tell you?"

"What?" Peter clearly didn't understand what the word 'required' meant.

"Do I have to?"

"Only if you want to."

Brian drew in a deep breath and explained, "It all began with my first actual owner, Granny Whitlam. The very day she adopted me she whipped me with a leather belt for no reason. Her hands were like those of any bony old woman, but looks can be deceiving. It was so unpleasant for a puppy like I was. It happened almost every day when I lived with her. Every time I was thrown across a chair in the kitchen, and I received fifteen smacks in a row with that horrid belt. I never seemed to get over it; every time I would cry and beg her to stop spanking me. At least, I only lived with her for three and a half months. But every time I was sent back to the… uh, let's just call it the adoption agency for now, I was paddled. For a long time to children young and old, I was known as the 'whipping boy'. They'd pound me whenever they felt like it. Although it wasn't as bad as what happened with Granny Whitlam, it was still painful and embarrassing as ever. It stayed that way until the day I went off to college."

Brian closed his eyes as he recollected all that went down when he was a puppy and with him and Peter. "Of course," he appended, "there must have been some sort of logic behind the thrashings I got back then and the one I recently got from you. I'm not that great of a dog, after all." He sniffed and turned his head away from Peter, who seemed like he just got punched in the stomach.

Peter grabbed Brian's shoulder and said, "You're not a bad dog at all. You're freakin' awesome." He pulled the dog into his embrace and ultimately broke up.

"I'm so sorry, buddy," he cried as he petted the dog slowly, "I had no idea, I was so…"

"Say no more, Peter," Brian replied, his own eyes shimmering with tears, "it's alright. I'm happy you understand what really made that beating so terrible. Just do me one favor."

"What kind of favor?"

"Promise me you'll never do that to me ever again."

Peter grinned and wiped his eyes. "You have my word, Brian."

Brian genuinely smiled for the first time in about a month. "I'm glad we had this talk, old friend," he spoke.

"Me, too."

It was true that Brian never forgot the cruel spanking he suffered that fateful evening, but at least his relationship with Peter was strong enough that discussing the problem was a great way to solve it- and to make sure it didn't happen again. So far, it never has.


End file.
